Your Will, Not Mine
by Archangel Samuel
Summary: "When the time comes, you will watch. But you will do nothing." The angels struggle to follow their Master's orders, even if it means watching Him be tortured and killed before their very eyes. Young Samuel is tempted to disobey. A Crucifixion story from the angels' perspective.
1. Chapter 1

**Your Will, Not Mine**

There were many angels within the crowd that day. They went among the men and women, unseen and unheard, for they walked on a separate, holy plane. The One who walked the line between was before them now, bearing a great wooden cross from which He would soon be hung.

Michael, robed in shining splendor, watched, his expression hard. His Father's orders had been absolute.

_"When the time comes, you will watch. But you will do nothing."_

"How am I to just stand by and let them hurt You?" Michael had asked, all those years ago, his soul in anguish. There had been no answer, only a repeated command.

_"You will do nothing." _

Michael had understood the Plan. It was the reasoning behind the Plan that he could not comprehend. His Father's perfect love for humanity surpassed even Michael's understanding.

Today it was Michael's duty to make sure that his brothers and sisters followed Father's commands, even when his own heart was torn in two.

Raphael, pale and beautiful, stood at Michael's side, staring down at his own shaking hands. They were made to heal. All it would take was one touch, and his Master's wounds would be gone. One touch, and yet, he was forbidden to interfere. He looked at Michael, a silent plea in his eyes. Michael placed a gentle hand on Raphael's shoulder and shook his head.

"We cannot," he whispered.

Gabriel stood on the other side of the path with his shining wings around Mary, trying to help her bear the pain of watching her child suffer. He had felt responsible for her from the moment he first brought her news of the Plan. A young man was also beside Mary, holding her hand in his.

Many others stood in reverent silence, ignoring the noise of the jeering crowd. Some of them covered their faces with their wings, unable to watch. Others could not tear their eyes from the scene. Samuel, dark-haired and youthful, was among them.

Though he had lived for thousands of years, Samuel was still but a child in the sight of the archangels. Tears came to his eyes as he watched his Master stumbling before him, weakened by a battered, human body. He quickly brushed them away.

"There is no shame in weeping," a kind voice said. Samuel felt an arm gently wrap around his shoulders, and he turned to see a tall, unfamiliar angel beside him who shone as brightly as Michael. The bright one looked down at Samuel with a sad smile. "Father's orders are cruel. I cannot help but wonder if they are a test."

"What do you mean?" Samuel asked, as he looked up at the bright one's shining face.

"Perhaps it is a test of loyalty. Who among us loves Father enough to save Him, even when under orders not to?" the bright one said.

This troubled Samuel. Father's orders were always clear. He had never tried to trick them before. Samuel looked over at Michael, who kept a steady hand on Raphael, even when the torment was clear on his own face.

"Michael is more loyal than any of us, and he will not allow anyone to interfere," Samuel said.

"That is true. Michael is wise, strong, and fiercely loyal. But perhaps he has not stopped to think about what is truly happening here. Watch."

Samuel looked back at the Son. Blood and sweat streamed down His face and back. He was slowing. The crowd was growing louder.

"The cross he bears is heavy, but it is nothing compared to the weight of sin that comes with it. All the sins of the world, even the ones that are yet to be, rest on his shoulders." The bright one pointed at the Roman soldiers as he continued, "The one holding the whip, the one holding the hammer and nails, even Longinus, the spear-bearer. Their sins are all upon that cross."

The bright one, still with his arm around Samuel, moved with the crowd, following the slow, painful procession.

"What have they done to deserve the Life he offers? Every last one has turned from Him. Not even His twelve chosen could stay by His side."

"John is here," Samuel reasoned, glancing across the crowd at the young man beside Mary and Gabriel.

"Yet he makes no attempt at rescue. None of these creatures are truly worth saving. This whole spectacle is nothing but a useless, painful endeavor," the bright one said, disgust clear in his voice.

"Do not say such things," Samuel said, though he was unable to deny the logic of the bright one's words.

A great clamor arose in the crowd, and Samuel strained to see. The Son had fallen to the ground, the great cross pressing down upon Him. Michael stood nearby, holding both arms out in warning to the other angels. No one was to touch Him.

Samuel felt his eyes filling with tears again, and the bright angel leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"Go to Him, Samuel. There is still time to right this wrong."

"But Michael-"

"Michael longs to help as much as any of us. He will understand."

The words were full of reason, and Samuel felt hope filling his heart. It didn't have to end this way.

"Go!" the bright one said, giving Samuel a quick shove forward.

Samuel landed on his hands and knees before the Son. He opened his mouth to speak, but words had left him. A Roman soldier, blind to Samuel's presence, impatiently raised his whip. Samuel heard Michael's voice crying his name, but he ignored it as he got up to try and shield his Master from the brutal assault.

The whip came down, but Samuel did not feel its sting. The One who walked the line between felt both the whip and His servant's body trying to protect Him.

"Get back, Samuel!" Michael shouted again, this time reaching for his sword.

The Son raised His hand, silencing the archangel with one motion. He let His gaze fall on Samuel, who was back on his knees.

"Lord, please let us save You!" Samuel implored, finding his voice again. "Let me carry this burden for You. Let me die instead!" He reached for the cross on the Son's shoulders, but his hand went straight through. He could not even touch it.

_"Samuel." _

Samuel felt a thrill as the Son spoke his name.

_"You are a good and faithful servant. But mine is the only life worthy to be given in this exchange." _The Son smiled through the pain and reached out to wipe the tears from Samuel's face.

Samuel could not believe it. His Master was mere hours from an agonizing death, yet it was Samuel who was being comforted.

"But why must you die? I do not understand, Lord," Samuel said, begging for an answer.

The whip came down again, and the Son closed His eyes against the sting.

_"It is a matter of love, my child. You will understand when you learn to love humanity as I do. Now go back to your brothers and sisters." _

Samuel shook his head, dissatisfied, but he obeyed and stepped back, his eyes never leaving his Master's face.

A sturdy man from Cyrene was pulled away from his two young sons and ordered to carry the cross for the rest of the journey. When the weight had been lifted from His shoulders, the Son shakily stood and glanced quickly at Michael.

_"There is a serpent among you," _He said, before turning to continue His fateful journey.

Michael drew his sword.

"Lucifer! Show yourself!" he shouted.

The luminous angel stepped forward, but his light was suddenly gone. He was now cloaked in shadow, his face hidden.

"Young Samuel is the only one of you with pity in his heart," Lucifer said. "You should be ashamed, Michael."

"Father's will be done, not ours," Michael responded. "Your attempts at treachery have failed. Leave this place, before my sword rends you as it did before."

Lucifer's body flinched at the memory.

"I was only trying to save _our _Master from needless suffering, dear Brother," Lucifer said, but there was nothing but venom and mockery in his words. "Besides, Samuel knows I'm right. He believed every word I said. Didn't you, Samuel?" Lucifer reached out toward Samuel, but Michael put himself between them.

"Leave. Now." The archangel raised his sword in warning. Lucifer hissed with defiance, but he backed off.

"The plan will not work. The only thing that awaits this God among men is death," he spat.

"Then why, I wonder, did you try to trick Samuel into helping Him?" Michael said, his voice steady.

Lucifer snarled like a wild animal.

"My armies will be waiting for you at the Skull," he said before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Michael sheathed his sword and turned to Samuel, who instantly dropped to his knees.

"Samuel-"

"I am sorry, Michael. I let his words deceive me, and I disobeyed your orders," Samuel said, keeping his head down in shame.

"Samuel-"

"Please punish me as you see fit," the younger angel begged.

Michael smiled for the first time that day.

"Samuel." This time there was no interruption. "That was one of Lucifer's more clever schemes. What you did was foolish, but it was done out of love. There is no sin in that."

Michael reached down and took a hold of Samuel's arm, pulling him to his feet.

"Stay by my side, Samuel. We will help each other through this bitter day," he said.

The archangel looked off into the distance and caught a glimpse of the demons gathering on the hilltop, preparing for battle. It felt like a blade was twisting in his heart. He had never expected that he would have to fight for his own Master's death.

_"Your will be done, not mine," _Michael prayed for the hundredth time that day.

The slow march to Golgotha continued.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! If you have time, please take a moment to leave a comment. I would really like to know what you thought of it!

-Samuel


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This story was originally a oneshot, but I got some requests to continue with the "full story." I thought I might as well, considering Easter is coming up. I hope not to offend any particular denominations. Please be open-minded!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The path gradually became steeper, and the procession of soldiers and condemned men slowed. Michael moved quickly among his brothers and sisters, giving out orders in preparation for facing the demons on top of the hill. He kept a close watch on Samuel, and the younger angel began to wonder if he had lost his captain's trust.

"Lucifer's demons will do anything to stop the Plan from being carried out," Michael said, addressing the ranks. "Keep them away from the soldiers, and do not let them approach the cross. Destroy as many of them as you can."

"Do not leave your backs unguarded. Their most prized war trophies are the wings of angels," Raphael instructed the younger ones. "If you are hurt, call to me or Ariel right away."

The demons attacked as soon as the procession reached the top of the hill. They set their sights on the man bearing the cross and on the Roman soldiers. Their orders were clear: Do not allow the Son to be crucified. Swords were drawn, and angels were pulled away from their grief to do battle.

Chaos reigned as demons and angels fell upon each other, but neither the soldiers nor the crowd could perceive the battle. Only the Son was aware of what was going on, and even He was too focused on His mission to pay any attention to the commotion.

Samuel watched as a demon attacked the soldier who carried the hammer and nails, the creature wrapping its spindly arms around the man. Though the soldier could not feel the demon's touch, he was suddenly aware of foreign thoughts and emotions invading his heart. "_You should not be here. You should be anywhere but here. Better at the bottom of a cliff than here_," his thoughts told him. The soldier found himself sprinting in search of a high place to throw himself off of. Samuel broke from Michael's side to run after the demon-possessed man.

"Release him!" Samuel cried when he caught up, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. The demon broke its grip on the soldier and instantly turned its attack on the young angel. Samuel gasped in pain and terror when the demon's claws met his side, tearing into him. Yet, as soon as Samuel raised his own sword to attack, the demon disappeared, too cowardly to finish what it had started. The soldier blinked several times, wondering how long he had been dreaming, before shrugging and finding his way back to the top of the hill.

Sighing with relief, Samuel reached for his bleeding side only to find another hand already there, healing his torn flesh. His eyes met Raphael's, and he smiled in gratitude. The healer did not return the gesture.

"You need to be more careful, Little Brother."

Seconds later, the wound was gone, and so was Raphael.

* * *

Michael was too distracted to notice that Samuel had left him. Lucifer was approaching, just as he had expected.

"Give up, Lucifer. Your ranks are weak in number and resolve," Michael said. "Do you really want a repeat of what happened last time?"

"It would be worth it for a chance to cleave your flesh again as you clove mine," Lucifer responded with bitterness, but then continued, "I do not doubt the strength of your army, and I admit that my own followers have no chance of defeating you. But at least I can find consolation in what I have already won."

"You have won _nothing,_" Michael said, surprised by his own rage. He could not stand Lucifer's unending arrogance, the sick, withered reflection of his former beauty and glory.

"Only the thing that matters most to Father. There is more of me in their hearts than there ever will be of Him. They may be His children, but they are and always will be _my_ prize."

With that final statement, Lucifer disappeared, his ranks following soon after.

The battle was over, but the angels saw no reason to rejoice. The cross was already laid down, and they watched in despair as the Son was unceremoniously positioned onto it. Their grief, momentarily swept aside by the excitement of battle, now returned tenfold.

The soldier, still trembling from his momentary demonic possession, knelt down to fulfill his part of the Plan. At the pounding of the first nail and the Son's sharp intake of breath that accompanied it, a woman's scream rose up from the crowd.

"My son! _My son!_" Mary cried, echoing the grief of David. There was no knowledge of resurrection and salvation in her mind, only the unspeakable pain of a mother made to watch her child be murdered. She tried to run to His side, to comfort Him, to kiss away His pain as she had done when He was only a child. It was John who held her back, protecting her from the wrath of the soldiers who stood with their swords drawn in warning. The soldier with the hammer and nails continued his work, unaware of the tears that streamed down his face.

A final nail was driven into the cross, attaching a sign written in several languages. The cross was raised up, and angels and men alike read the words: THE KING OF THE JEWS. Many people in the crowd began shouting insults, calling for the Son to free himself. Even one of the thieves crucified beside Him yelled abuses. The soldiers, their own labors complete for the moment, began gambling over the Son's bloodstained clothing.

Raphael could not keep his silence any longer, and he cried out in his grief and rage, "He is not a king of Jews, but the King of both Heaven and Earth! How dare you mock the One who comes to save you?"

"Peace, Raphael," Michael said, but vengeance was in his heart as well. He looked up at the cross and addressed his Master directly, "Lord, You only have to say the word, and we shall strike them down where they stand. At Your command they shall feel the sting of retribution!"

But even as the archangel's words fell on the deaf ears of the soldiers casting lots at the foot of the cross, the Son spoke in their defense.

_"Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do."_

The soldiers stopped, momentarily stunned by the words of pardon no victim of theirs had ever uttered. They looked up at the cross, and then to each other. They shared a nervous laugh as the initial shock wore off. Surely this man was more senseless than they had originally thought!

Michael shook his head in wonder.

"What manner of love is this?" he said to no one. He turned to the other angels who all looked to him for guidance, and spoke in a voice broken with sorrow.

"Lucifer was right," he said, to the shock of his brothers and sisters. "They are not worth saving. Not as they are now. That is why this sacrifice is necessary."

"It is Father's love that makes them worthy," Gabriel spoke, his own love for humanity stirring in his heart. "Does a mother not cherish her child unconditionally?" he asked, his gaze falling upon the weeping Mary.

The other thief crucified to the right of the Son offered no insults, only a confession of his guilt and a request for salvation. The Son offered him words of assurance in return.

_"Today you will be with me in paradise."_

* * *

Hours passed, and the Son remained awake and alert, but silent, unlike the thieves who moaned in agony on either side of Him. His mother was still weeping, and He took pity on her.

_"Behold your son," _He said, glancing from Mary to John. _"Behold your mother."_

"Let it be as you say," John answered, holding Mary's hand in his.

"Thank you, Lord" Gabriel whispered, his worries melting away. Mary had become very dear to him, and he was relieved to see that she would be taken care of.

Soon after, the sky suddenly became dark, though it was only midday. Another hour passed, and the Son's suffering increased as it became harder for Him to breathe

The angels were looking more and more like lost sheep, and Michael tried his best to reassure them. "It is almost over," he said, praying that he was right.

The Son shifted on the cross, struggling for air. "Listen," several onlookers murmured, "He's going to say something."

The Son spoke in a loud voice that no longer carried calm acceptance, but fear and abandonment.

_"My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?"_

The crowd became disquieted again, many of them wondering aloud what His words meant. The angels were confused as well, and they looked to Michael for explanation.

It was Raphael who spoke out immediately, "His human side cries for help. Let me heal Him, Michael, I beg of you!"

Michael remained strong. "If we interfere now it will undo everything that has been accomplished up until this day. This is our final test. Father's will be done."

"And what of the Son's will?" Raphael countered, his instinct to heal getting the best of him. He approached the cross, reaching out toward the feet of the Son.

Michael put himself between them, his sword instantly drawn. He spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Your hands have healed countless wounds, including my own, and it sickens me to even think of hurting you. But the salvation of mankind is at stake. If you come any closer, I will not hesitate to raise my sword against you."

The rest of the angels watched in terrified silence as their leader threatened their healer. Raphael looked at his brother with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. He took one step forward, then another.

Michael couldn't believe what was happening. His vision clouded with tears as he raised his sword to strike. Samuel, now back at his captain's side, took Michael's arm in both his hands, begging for him to stop. The archangel easily shook him off.

Raphael reached out, but it was toward his brother, not the Son. Michael froze mid-swing just as Raphael fell to his knees, his head bowed.

"Why is Father doing this to us?" the healer whispered.

The sword fell to the ground with a loud _clang, _and Michael's arms were around Raphael long before the sound had died.

"It is almost over," Michael repeated, holding his brother tightly. "We must be patient. When He triumphs, our mourning will be dancing.

_"I am thirsty."_

The two archangels stood and looked back up at the One who had spoken. A soldier offered up a sponge that had been dipped in sour wine, and the Son accepted a few sips before speaking again.

_"It is finished."_

The Son had to gasp several times before He had enough breath to speak again, but there was strength in His voice as He said His final words:

_"Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit."_

There was a great thunderous noise and the earth shook as the Son breathed His last.

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you will forgive the added drama with Raphael…He's always independent and stubborn when I write him.

Please take a moment to let me know what you thought, and to share any helpful ideas you might have!

-Samuel


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